Texty

Dungarees, goggles, and an air of deceit These cows have been milked beyond plausible reason Chortles and mutters and nothing else more Yet you'll sit on that stool 'til your gluteus is sore A lunchbox, a towel, a skateboard, a bag Insurance, and broadband, fast food A suffocating presence like snakes in a duvet I've no other choice than embracing what you say All this ubiquity is making me nauseous Lining the streets like the guardsman of the fortress Line the cows Line the cows To call it a day is more gracious a thing Then to keep churning out sour batches Not that I'd say it was good in itself But a handful is better than the need for a shelf A name's aren't important, we'll think of one later By the time that we're done, we'll be household There's a bloody great pile of waste down the road Where lie our integrity, our substance and soul All this ubiquity is making me nauseous Lining the streets like the guardsman of the fortress Line the cows Line the cows So take my money, sleeping people Take the lot you might as well Now get out of my personal space Don't wanna see you screws again Not you, not any slight resemblance, acquaintance, nor alias And saw the brainwashed innocence that thought of you are pious Line the cows and squeeze it out Line the cows and squeeze Line the cows and squeeze it out Bring 'em to their knees Line the cows and squeeze it out Line the cows and squeeze What curd, what is to be procured As yellow hell devours the world All this ubiquity is making me nauseous Lining the streets like the guardsman of the fortress All this ubiquity is making me nauseous Lining the streets like the guardsman of the fortress All this ubiquity is making me nauseous Lining the streets like the guardsman of the fortress Line the cows Line the cows
Writer(s): William Alan King, Alfred Charles Husband, George Frederick Ullyott, Zachary Lawrence Woolley Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out